


We're in the Same Boat

by alethememe



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Tallster, this smol ship is my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:54:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alethememe/pseuds/alethememe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ben is a worrisome mother hen and Caleb probably has a concussion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're in the Same Boat

Given that the Congress printed continental dollar was useless, smuggling seemed like the only option to make enough to actually live. Prices soared due to the congestion on the trade route and the fact that the continental dollar's value dipped so much that colonists were using them as wallpaper. That amused Caleb, but making a living wasn't a joking matter (even as much as he loved one).  
Both sides turned a blind eye away from smuggling, that is if the smugglers supplied what they needed. Caleb had a rickety rowboat to go across the Sound to do business. At its maximum capacity, it could seat two people and probably a bundle of smuggled goods between both feet of the rower and the passenger. Its size didn't really matter because it was enough to get the job done. But apparently not small enough to cross unnoticed.

Caleb first noticed the boat in the distance, it was still away but he knew better than to let his guard down. He picked up the pace of his strokes just out of caution, his labored breath warms against the contrastingly cold night air. Caleb spared a glance behind his shoulder just to see the enemy boat approaching at an alarmingly fast speed. Getting captured wasn't an option. The British were wary of smugglers ever since they intercepted an encrypted letter from the enemy. Not only did the enemy smuggle goods but information as well. Traveling by boat avoided crossing checkpoints where smugglers and spies alike could be detected. Traveling was especially hazardous for Caleb because he worked on both spying and smuggling fronts. People were counting on him. The Ring was cultivated after hours of work, and he definitely couldn't compromise it because of one unlucky encounter with British trade patrols.  
A bullet fired just shy of the left side of the boat. In the time he had last glanced back, the boat had gained a considerable amount of speed to be within firing distance.

"Shite", Caleb cursed under his breath. He was getting less and less confident about this.

Bullets fired again but luckily they hit the water and not him. Panic was not an emotion he was all too familiar with, but this moment was enough for a lifetime. His strokes became rushed, short and not nearly enough to outrun the steadily approaching enemy boat. Caleb dropped his oars, snatched the package from the floor of the boat, and plunged into the frigid waters. 

He was immediately met with the shock of the cold that made his breath hike up. The water was wine-dark and all he could think about was the cold that seemed to seep into his bones. Caleb found in hard to keep afloat and the water kept on filling his mouth whenever he gasped for air. A wave hit with such force that it pushed him under and hit the rocks below.

 

\---  
Caleb woke up to the sight of sunlight filtering through canvas. By the outside sounds and smells, he was definitely at camp, but he didn't know which one, the enemy's or his own. Caleb mentally kicked himself for being reckless enough to get captured.

"You should've been more careful out there, you could've gotten hypothermia"

Caleb cracked a grin. Out of the two of them, Ben had always been the worrisome mother hen.  
"I would rather get that than have them redcoats intercepting intelligence"

Ben's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you let—Never mind, the only thing I want to deal with now is that you were nearly killed".

"Ah, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Benny boy. So what if I got the chills?"

"I didn't think you heard me correctly", Ben ducked through the cloth flaps of the tent and walked towards the cot where Caleb was lying. "You could've died last night. If it weren't for the scouts that found you and your boat near the shore, you would've frozen to death. Doesn't that bother you even a little?"

"I've witnessed men die, Ben. I've seen my own shipmates get pulled under in whaling trips and I couldn't do a thing about it. All I could do is sit like a dumb arse and pray to God the same didn't happen to me"

"Caleb don't you start. Who are you to talk when I was put in command of men who I let die? I let them get killed. I feel responsible for their lives as I do for yours. You've could've died in a mission I sent you out on".

"Ah, but you see Benny boy, I didn't", Caleb tried to prop himself up on cot and grimaced, deciding it better to lie down. "I hate to break it to you Ben, but people die. I sure as hell will, probably sooner rather than later. Do you really think I matter in the long run?"

"You're not-", Ben began to talk animatedly but then composed himself. His expression hardened as if suddenly recalling a lecture aimed at him "Look, you're-", his voice dropped so that anyone passing the tent couldn't hear. "You're different, okay?"

"Oh, I'm different, eh? Is that what you tell all the girls you pick up at taverns?" Caleb huffed a laugh.

Ben let a dissatisfied sigh, "You know what I mean".

"I don't! I don't!" Caleb stopped laughing and raised his eyebrows, " But I'm serious I've no idea how you get laid with that kinda line". 

Caleb erupted into laughter at his own comment just as a courier parted the folds of the tent, "Major Tallmadge, you've a meeting, sir"

 

\---------------  
This was the second time Caleb woke up in one of the medic tents, but this time, he woke to see Ben seated to his cot, scribbling away at a few letters on a portable desk balanced on top of his thighs. Some of the shorter hair from Ben's braid fell into his face; Caleb was tempted to push it out of the way. He was about to get out of bed but felt the starchy fabric of a Continental army jacket draped over his shoulders.  
The jacket obviously belongs to Ben; he must've visited during the night. Ben's only wearing a thin linen shirt, through which Caleb can easily see a patch of raised skin on his right shoulder. The worst scar from stitches if he's ever seen one.  
"You've been shot."

"And you hit your head on a rock. I'd advise you to keep from anything too strenuous". Ben says, his eyes unmoving from the letter.

Caleb manages to sit himself up anyways, "When were you shot? I didn't hear about this."

"I didn't tell you because I thought you didn't care about people almost getting killed."

Caleb outwardly sighed, he knew what he said yesterday would come back and bite him. "I thought about yesterday and--",  
maybe Caleb was delirious from the pain or simply charged with a moment of boldness and lurched from his cot and kissed Ben, the portable desk clattering to the floor. 

Once the initial shock faded away, Ben eagerly reciprocated the kiss, unbothered the sting that Caleb's beard left on his jaw. 

Ben's eyes snapped open and he pushed Caleb away by the shoulders. "What the hell, Caleb? You know what happens to people like--"

"Like what?" Caleb's voice softened.

Ben swept his hand over his face, frustrated that he could supply an answer. "I can't…I'm sorry Caleb.” Ben left the tent leaving the only proof of what happened that morning on the floor and around Caleb's shoulders.

 

\------

When Ben left the tent, he left Caleb in utter shock. What exactly happened that morning? Caleb found it hard to do anything else besides mauling over the interaction between Ben and himself. The doctor's attempt to get Caleb to eat anything that day was useless; he gave up after a while and just left the trays beside Caleb's cot. The doctor also instructed Caleb to rest, which he immediately disobeyed as soon as the doctor left the tent.

Despite the ache in his head and just about everywhere else, Caleb was set on confronting Ben and decided to return his jacket as well. He found Ben in his own tent flipping through letters; Caleb forgot that his rank had the luxury of a tent of his own.

"You forgot this", Caleb said, tossing the blue jacket at him.

Ben looked up, startled on seeing Caleb walking around camp. "Why aren't you resting?"

"Decided to take a stroll around camp", Caleb said, walking over and flipping through the sealed letters ready to be sent. "So, are we going to talk about it or not ?"

Ben bristled. He talked about it so nonchalantly. It frustrated Ben that Caleb talked as if any curious passerby couldn't pick up on their conversation. "People can get killed for this, you know."

The reality hit Caleb like a brick. In the moment leading up to the kiss, there was a rush of thoughts and emotions but nothing about the repercussions of what he had just done. The realization that he had kissed Benjamin Tallmadge, his best friend and probably ruining any hopes of keeping it was enough to make his heartbeat jump. "Not if we're careful. We won't get caught. We can keep it …”

Ben set down the letters and patted the back of his head nervously, " God if this gets out. Just think of it, a major of the Continental army found-"

“Hey, it won’t get out if I can help it . If you’re concerned with eavesdropping. Fine. Meet me at the shore at midnight because I need answers. I really do, aight?” 

\-----------  
Just as he said, Caleb was there by the shore at midnight. He’d been waiting for a while, too anxious to do anything else. The night sky was calming. On nights rowing across the Sound, he’d look up at the stars and recall the constellations learnt during his whaleboating days. Even when Caleb felt like his world was falling apart, the stars hung unchanged.   
Ben’s paranoia of their conversation being picked up wasn’t too far from crazy. During the day soldiers and officers milled around camp, most complained about how their threadbare clothes weren’t nearly enough to keep out the cold. If rumors really caught on like wildfires, Valley Forge would be the dry grass. Word was the only thing that spreaded faster than typhus,typhoid fever,pneumonia or any other sickness in camp. It would only take a poorly timed glance to pique suspicions.

It was unlike Ben to be late. Ben, the ever prompt Benjamin Tallmadge, was probably never late a day in his life.  
“Where are you, you bastard.” Caleb grew impatient the more and more he waited. He was sick of staring of the shallow rocking of his rowboat docked on the shore. It was unscathed from its last trip crossing the Sound, unlike Caleb who sported a hit to the head and the bruises to show for it.

A cloaked figure emerged from the trees. Caleb instinctively put a hand on the knife in his coat pocket.

“You’re lucky you weren’t the only thing that was recovered that night you were attacked. I had my men bring it that piece of driftwood before it was destroyed by the storm.”

He let go of the knife, relieved it wasn’t someone sent to finish him off. “Watch it, this driftwood here carries your damn messages.”

“I don’t think us talking at night is any safe. If fact, I think meeting at night might make some people talk.”

“Ah, that’s why we’re using this piece of driftwood, as you call it.” Caleb clicked his tongue and stepped inside the rowboat, patting the seat next to him. “Nobody can hear ya if you’re far enough away.”

 

Caleb could see the fog produced by Ben’s sigh as he took the seat next to him. The rowboat teetered from side to side with the weight of the two men. It was dark, as one would think at midnight; Caleb brought a lantern that provided enough light to see a few feet ahead of him, but its range was not sufficient to navigate. He figured they were only rowing out of hearing range and then back, besides if anyone knew these waters, it was Caleb. 

The rowboat wasn’t meant to transport passengers, only goods and a parcel here and there. It was crowded; Ben faced Caleb, looking ahead to where the boat was going. Ben’s knees bumped his but Caleb tried to act like he didn’t notice. Caleb picked up the paddles from the floor and pushed off from the shore, sending the boat into deep rocking motions that almost skimmed the water.

“Jesus Caleb, it’s almost like you’re trying to tip us over.” Ben had a white-knuckled grip on the sides of the boat to stabilize himself. 

“Yeah, it’s almost like I am. How about you test the water and see if it’s a good swimmin temperature?” Caleb used his paddle to flick a little bit of the water at Ben, granting him a kick in the shin. In response, he favored his rowing to one side just to watch Ben frantically try shift his weight to the other side of the boat to avoid falling in the water.

Caleb considered to literally and figuratively rock the boat to tip his friend in just for the hell of it, but waved his thoughts aside when Ben’s expression sank when they met eyes. Caleb stopped rowing entirely, the boat drifting a little. If he looked over his shoulder, he could see the flicker of dying fires at Valley Forge. Caleb had been trying to formulate the words to say to Ben, what he’d finally get off his chest once they were alone, but he found his mind running a blank. 

In all of Caleb’s tongue-tiedness, Ben was the first one to pipe up. “I wouldn’t have left the tent that morning if I had a choice”. 

His heart, which he thought was frozen from the cold, suddenly jumped. “Really? You mean the say that when I ki--er, I mean, what happened then wasn’t just me?”

“No, unfortunately,” Ben said bitterly.

“What d’ya mean?”

“I’ve worked hard to be where I am and--,”as emotion flashed across Ben’s face and Caleb swore it was embarrassment. “I can’t jeopardize my reputation and my life because of some fleeting feelings”. 

Of course Caleb knew the consequences of the ‘feelings’ Ben described, it was hard not too. He’d heard of men get hanged for having them. And what terrified Caleb was that Ben’s worries about discovery wasn’t exclusive, he too was vulnerable. The emotion Ben felt wasn’t embarrassment,no, it was bone-deep. It was shame. Caleb felt it too, though not as much because he had less to lose. Ben, on the other hand, had chance looming over his head like a blade.

“Look around ya, Tallboy”, Caleb gestured to camp across the water, which was only a bunch of glowing dots from the otherwise dark shoreline. “Nobody’s gonna see anything here. They’re all busy snoring to spy on us.”

Beh huffed, unconvinced. “Yes, but we still could get caught”

“Let ‘em’” Caleb said, his voice tinged with impatience. The boat rocked as Caleb leaned forward and silenced Ben with a kiss to cut off any worried interjections from him.  
Caleb’s fingers sapped the cold from Ben’s cheeks and he was glad Ben’s initial reaction this time wasn’t to shove him off. The cold barely registered; the feeling lit a bonfire under Caleb’s cheeks. He felt elated, as if kissing Ben had just won the war. 

Caleb pulled away from the kiss but kept his hands framing Ben’s face. He met Ben’s eyes, who had looked like a dog who had just stolen a steak. “What’s wrong?” 

Ben glanced to the side of the boat, shaking off Caleb’s hands and denying himself any connection to Caleb. It was easy to see that Ben was uncomfortable in this situation, his shoulders were rigid. “We should get back. Drills start at dawn”.

“Alright”.

“Oh,” Ben said. “One more thing. As soon as we dock, we’re both pretending like this, all of this, didn’t happen.”

Caleb agreed, picked up the paddles again, and began their way back to camp. How long were they out here? The sky was blue stained with pink around the horizon line, unsure of it was still night or dawn. They docked the rowboat on shore quietly and split to their own tents, Ben to his own and Caleb back to the medic tent. 

At breakfast, as Caleb was wont to do, snuck out of his tent and into Ben’s. They ate breakfast together, talking about the weather and sitting a little closer than usual.


End file.
